Hello, Art School.

Fact: I'm flighty, fickle, and shifty as Hell.

So I took my four A's, one B, and an F, crept away from the University of Memphis, and found myself as a weak and diseased appendage of the Memphis College of Art student body. I will say this: You encounter fewer Bluetooth headsets at art schools, that's for sure. While it is refreshing not to have to guess whether your classmates are raging schizophrenics, or struggle against a sea of rolly backpacks, MCA has proven itself to be quite the murky, incestous breeding pool for the stylish ignoramus. Looks as if every alcohol-dependent, psuedo-political 18 year-old in the tri-state area hightailed it to Memphis to play their role in the same artsy-fartsy club I've landed myself in. Oh, I'm having a field day ...!

My room is blanketed in a layer of black, white, and gray Stonehenge paper (which, I might add, costs a pretty penny), my bank account is starving to death, and I've somehow managed to end up with the rubber cement in my mouth on numerous occasions. Delicious.

I'll be honest with you, Internets, I'm a bit disappointed in myself for abandoning that cute little Creative Writing major I was going after. Something one of my I.P.C. instructors told me last Tuesday really struck a cord:

"If speech were perfect, there would be no need for art."

I wanted to do what I could to enrich the literary world. I wanted to publish a book of poems, a book of short stories, a novel or two or three or four. I wanted to be l'enfant terrible, the wayward lovechild of Robert Desnos and Flannery O'Connor, see poetic love curse the poetry slam. I wanted a shelf of my own, somewhere. I still do, actually, but I'm walking in the wrong direction.

So I'll open my Moleskine, draw a picture and have a rip-roaring good time. O hai, fine arts. How are you? Let's go play. Let's try and ignore the fact that the literary world is lurching to-and-fro like a stupid, clumsy cow.

But, you knw ... So far, I've enjoyed being educated at the Memphis College of Art. It's ... interesting, to say the least.

We'll see how it goes, yeah?